


Five Times Jim and Spock Melded In Front Of Others

by Bam4Me



Series: Glittered Strings of You and Me [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Bonding, Feral Spock, Feral Spock in one scene, Hurt/Comfort, Jewish Jim, Jewish Spock, Jewish Wedding, M/M, Mind Meld, No Angst, Not compliant with the newer movies other than Khan, Some Spock/Uhura at the beginning but the break up is a hundred percent mutual and happy, Telepathic Bond, Vulcan Mind Melds, Whump Jim, Whump Spock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 06:22:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11457807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bam4Me/pseuds/Bam4Me
Summary: (And Two Just For Them)





	Five Times Jim and Spock Melded In Front Of Others

**Author's Note:**

> WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
> 
> gatersgonewild.tumblr.com

**Because his first officer wasn’t well.**

 

Jim sat up from his slump on the couch where he’d been filing reports on his PADD and looked around the room for a moment before a uncontrollable shudder went down his spine. He shook his head and rolled his shoulders once before attempting to go back to his work. It lasted about ten seconds before he did it again and let out an odd squeaking noise this time. His eyes went towards the bedroom door this time, and he put his PADD aside and got up from the couch.

 

The walk through his bedroom to the bathroom and through it was quick and quiet, and he found himself knocking on Spock’s door before he could even figure out why he was doing it. “Spock? Spock are you alright?”

 

Why was he asking Spock if he was alright? He should be, right? _Jim_ was the one having weird back spasms right now. But still, he couldn’t hold himself back, he _needed_ to know if Spock was okay.

 

The door slid open but it wasn’t Spock there, it was Uhura. Jim blanched, cringing. “Uh… sorry, I didn’t mean… I should leave you two to your night in-”

 

Uhura grabbed him by the arm when he looked like he might walk away and bodily hauled him into the room. She didn’t look all that happy, and that sort of set Jim on edge, because if her and Spock were having a domestic he really didn’t want to get in the middle of it. He’s pretty sure the two of them already seemed to think of him as their kid, and getting in the middle of their fights made him feel like they were going to demand he choose a side one day. He wonders if they know they’re treating him like their kid.

 

No, they wouldn’t think of him as their kid. Maybe an overactive puppy though…

 

Jim yelped when she pulled him through the bedroom and into the living room where Spock was sitting on the couch there, cheeks flushed and body coiled in on itself, otherwise though, stiff and unmoving.

 

Jim pulled out of her hold right away and moved to sit in front of Spock on the coffee table, lifting Spock’s head to he could look into his eyes. “What’s wrong with him?”

 

“I have no idea. He made this groaning noise about a minute ago and curled up like he was in pain. He’s not responding to me.”

 

Jim nodded. “Alright, call Bones to get down here, I’ll figure out what’s going on in his brain.”

 

Uhura nodded, turning to go back to the comm system, but before she could press the button, she stopped, and just watched them for a moment.

 

It was no secret that Spock, one of few vulcans who could perform melds, and Jim Kirk, a man with a higher psi rating than most of their species, could easily get into each other’s heads without pain. Vulcans normally find melding distasteful. While bonding is normal for them, actually initiating a meld, and therefore the emotional transference connected to it, was seen as gross and invasive if it didn’t _need_ to be done. Spock, born with the natural ability for it, liked, and even craved it.

 

Jim Kirk had an unusually high psi rating for a human, and while he still couldn’t meld people, he was nearly on the level of a non melding vulcan himself. Uhura still remembers the one time Spock had melded her. Doctor McCoy said it nearly caused an aneurysm.

 

Jim let go of Spock’s face with one hand, pulling Spock’s right hand up to his face with his own, and Uhura couldn’t hold back the wince at the impropriety of it. She turned back to the wall, comming the doctor for help.

 

“Spock, let me in, please. Your mind to mine.”

 

She wanted to be happy that someone else could figure out what was wrong with Spock when she couldn’t. She wanted to be happy that Spock had someone that _cared_ so much about him as to let them share their thoughts with him. In the vulcan species, this was perfectly normal. Even vulcans who couldn’t meld with others, could properly bond with friends and family, and would be able to tell what was wrong with them without even touching them. On vulcan, sensing thoughts through touch was both welcome and convenient.

 

She was jealous though. She couldn’t help it, it wasn’t healthy, it wasn’t logical, it wasn’t helpful in any way shape or form, and yet, she couldn’t help it. She was disgusted, but not with them.

 

When she turned back around, she regretted it. Spock had his other hand up on his own face, covering Jim’s. She didn’t know if it was different for vulcans with humans, or maybe it was different entirely for Spock, being half human himself, but you couldn’t deny the way that Spock’s hand covering Jim’s, pressing it into his cheek, was loving.

 

Spock’s other hand was still at Jim’s meld points, and they seemed to be locked too far into their minds to really know what was going on around them.

 

She sighed, sitting down on the edge of the couch while she waited for Doctor McCoy to get there. She wasn’t mad at Jim, or Spock, or even herself. She just wished she had the ability to give Spock that as well. They looked so utterly comfortable, nestled up in each other’s thoughts.

 

They always looked like that, even when they weren’t melded.

 

There was a knock on the door, and Uhura got up to let Leonard in, who went to Jim and Spock’s sides. He paused before touching them, knowing it would fuck them both up a little bit if he interrupted them, before putting his tricorder aside and covering Jim’s hand on Spock’s, and Spock’s hand on Jim’s. It took them a second to really recognize him there, but Spock let his fingers slip off Jim’s face before turning to look up at the doctor.

 

“I believe I am sick, Doctor McCoy.”

 

Leonard hummed, not answering verbally, but pulling up the tricorder to look at him. “...yes. It’s nothing big though, don’t worry. I want you down in sickbay for a night or two.”

 

Spock nodded without complaint, and Leonard shared a concerned look with Uhura. A Spock without his snark when talking to McCoy, was a dangerous thing.

 

Jim tugged him up off the couch with his hand in Spock’s, and Uhura couldn’t even bring herself to be upset at that. It was so _normal_ for them, Leonard didn’t even bat an eye at it.

 

**Because Spock needed Jim to hold on just a** **_little_ ** **longer.**

 

Jim jumped when the door to the cell slid open, and his bad move nearly got him electrocuted when the wires crossed each other and sparks started flying.

 

The guard behind the door gave him the most _unimpressed_ look when the automatic door stopped opening a little over halfway, apparently stuck because of his bad escape attempt.

 

“Really, Jim, you could have just knocked on the door and said you were ready to talk, no need to break my ship.”

 

Jim scowled at the man. Derek Spieldin, previously Commander Spieldin, before getting dishonorably discharged from the fleet for reasons unknown. The file, was in fact, sealed, but officers were warned to use precaution when dealing with the man, before he suddenly disappeared out of federation space entirely in a beat up old shuttle he bought on Terra.

 

And now, apparently, the ‘benevolent’ ruler of Tresect Maou, a little planet on the edge of an uncharted section of space, a planet of small aliens, all under five feet tall, who praised him for showing them technology and improving their lives.

 

Which, since he’s no longer in the fleet, and therefore, not required to adhere to the prime directive, except for the fact that he’s also got them convinced that he’s a god and made them take the landing party hostage immediately after they got there.

 

Apparently, Tresectians could lift up and _throw_ a fully grown vulcan male, despite being less than five feet, which had caused a lot of bruising.

 

They had put Jim in a different cell than Spock and Leonard, because Derek is a jerk. Of course, only a jerk would claim to be a god, but whatever.

 

Jim stood up from where he’d been pushed to the floor and started dusting off his pants, a pissy look on his face. Spieldin was a narcissist, he’d never be able to handle Jim constantly brushing him off. Jim wasn’t fully sure if he should piss the man off, but it was worth a try.

 

“Hmm, you call this a ship? Pretty beat up looking to me.”

 

Spieldin scowled at him, arms crossed, and Jim pulled himself out of the room through the too small crack in the door he’d left. It was undignified, as is the rest of Jim’s life to be honest, but he got through with minimal damage. He crossed his arms back at the man, a bad imitation of him meant to annoy. Seriously, if he didn’t do _something_ to piss the man off into either kicking them off the planet, or fucking up, they’d be here all day.

 

Derek rolled his eyes at the undignified way Jim stumbled out of the cell, and held an arm out, indicating he wanted Jim to walk. Jim did, acutely aware of the guards on either side of him, barely reaching all the way up to his waist, but dangerously armed with pointy sticks.

 

The went into another section of the ship -and Jim was starting to wonder if this was really the ‘shuttle’ he’d last been seen in, because this thing was a lot bigger than he thought it’d be, but he’d been mostly fighting unconsciousness when they’d brought him in- and motioned for Jim to sit down at what looked like a kitchen table. Jim did so, looking suspiciously at the plate in front of him. It had some weird looking fruit and meat on it, probably a native flora and fauna. “What is this now, a date?”

 

Derek sat across from Jim with a sigh, looking bored. “Jim, I never meant for any of you to get hurt. I just wanted y’all to stay away. This planet isn’t ready for federation intervention.”

 

Jim rolled his eyes, using a fork to poke at what looked like a walnut. He’d stay away from that in case it was, didn’t want to die of an allergic reaction while kidnapped. He speared a strip of what looked like meat on his fork and sniffed it. “No no, no federation intervention, just gods in human form, right?”

 

Derek tensed up a little, and Jim cautiously put the bite in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully while he watched the guy. Derek always had a bit of an ego back at the academy, but Jim never would have really labeled him as dangerous. Bit of a jerk, but no real danger.

 

Derek looked between Jim and the door they’d come through, before leaning in, words low. “Do you _honestly_ think I want to be here? I may have an ego, but I _like_ living with humans, not living under twenty-four hour guard.”

 

“Thirty-six.”

 

“What?”

 

Jim leaned his right elbow on the table, lazily picking up another piece of meat with the fork. “The days are thirty-six hours here.”

 

Derek rolled his eyes, obviously not amused. “Jim, I’m just as much of a prisoner here as you guys are, I just made the best of my living situation.”

 

Jim frowned, looking around. Yeah, the ship was a lot bigger than he thought it was, but it was all but gutted and wrecked. “You crashed here?”

 

Derek nodded, a sad look on his face. “Yeah. It would have been worse if the planet weren’t inhabited. They helped me find food and shelter, and I taught them rudimentary electricity and medicine. They don’t think of me as a _god_ they think of me as a _tool_.”

 

Jim snorted. “Yeah, just like back at the academy. Okay, yeah, I get it, being stranded on a planet is tough, the idea of never interacting with anyone isn’t something human beings are built for, it only makes sense to show your new roommates all the things that can help them out. Still, why attack us?”

 

“That wasn’t me, I just wanted to tell y’all to get back to your ship and beam me up when it’s safe, they saw more humans and figured that would mean more technology.”

 

“God, they’re like grounded romulans, killing everyone around them they think might have a cooler toy than them.”

 

Jim coulda swore he could see a vein throbbing in Derek’s forehead. Derek was one of those guys that hated metaphors. One time, he had a class with Bones and they nearly killed each other. “Pretty much, yes.”

 

Jim tapped his lips with the fork in thought. “Well, to be honest, this doesn’t seem like _too_ bad of a situation? Like… we pretty much just gotta wait them out till the Enterprise knows we’re missing, and beam up, right?”

 

Derek’s lips went thin. “See, yeah, thing is, they already _had_ technology before I got here. It’s… I don’t think _they_ put it here though. Well, possibly. Thing is, their technology is smarter than even _they_ know how to control, so either their race is technologically regressive, or someone else put it there before them, but they got this big weather machine that controls the atmosphere. It was off when you guys beamed down, but they turned it back on, and so nothing is gonna get through that.”

 

Jim groaned, letting his head thunk down on the table with a wince. “Do you know how to turn it off?”

 

“...I know where it _is_.”

 

Jim nodded, lifting up again. “That’ll have to do. Where are Spock and McCoy?”

 

“They’re still in the cell next to where I was keeping you. I didn’t think they’d be as easy to believe me as you would be.”

 

“So little faith in yourself?”

 

“Nah, I just know you’re a better target, but if I get you, it convinces both of them. Come on, chin up, if all goes well, we could be out of this place in a week, tops.”

 

“Wow, yay.”

 

***

 

The four of them were in some sort of natural hot springs. There were people around, of course, but the four of them were lounging in hot water while they talked.

 

“The natives get burned at a much lower temperature than we do. From what I can tell, their natural climate is supposed to be icy, but this group has adapted. Still, they don’t like the heat. They won’t come too close.”

 

Spock seemed to be the only one that wasn’t flushing at the intense heat, and Jim wondered if Vulcan had any sort of hot springs in it. Probably not, since, well, desert. Well, the _whole_ planet wasn’t a desert, maybe there was. He didn’t know.

 

The heat was already getting to him a little. They’ve been in this damn hole too long.

 

There was suddenly a hand on his head and Jim blinked open eyes he didn’t know he’d closed, finding one of Spock’s hands on his forehead. “Can I help you?”

 

Spock raised an eyebrow. “You are developing heat stroke at an alarming rate.”

 

Bones and Derek looked up from where they’d been discussing a plan, and Bones scowled. “Jim, get out of the water before you’re sick.”

 

Jim nodded dizzily, attempting to pull himself up and out, but his muscles were like jelly. What the heck? How rude.

 

He grunted when there were hands under his armpits, and when the _fuck_ did Spock get out of the water and why was he manhandling him? Should Jim report this? It’s really rude.

 

Oh wait, Spock has a towel for him and he’s drying him off, that’s pretty nice, thanks Spock. Jim lazily leaned against the vulcan’s shoulder before wincing. Why was Spock wet?

 

“Jim, you are experiencing delirium from a high fever.” Oh, and now Spock’s lost all idea of propriety because Jim is in his arms and walking away with him? He didn’t even _ask_? That’s even more rude. Jim sighed, laying back against his shoulder while they walked, lazily closing his eyes. “Jim, you must endeavor to stay awake, Doctor McCoy does not think this is a heat induced fever, he believes you are suffering an allergic reaction towards a chemical compound found in the water.”

 

Really? Jim doesn’t remember that. Actually, he doesn’t remember a lot of things, but mainly, he doesn’t remember being in the water? When did that happen? Can’t he just go back to his quarters and sleep? He’s so tired.

 

The last thing he remembers before things went dark, was Spock’s mind coming into his own, pressing against him like a warm soothing blanket. Jim grabbed a hold of it, and twisted Spock all around him, feeling tired and soft and cozy all wrapped up in him. He was so safe here, maybe Spock could let him stay?

 

***

 

When Jim woke up, there was light. Maybe he’s dead?

 

Wait, he recognizes that angry ranting voice, it’s just medbay, because Bones is yelling at him again.

 

He groaned, trying to bat at the light to get it to stop being so annoying. Seriously, go away? Ugh.

 

There was a dark that passed over his eyes, and when he opened them, it was to see green tinted fingers laying on top of his eyes. He blinked a few times, and looked under them to see Spock there, watching him as well. Jim tried to smile at him, before frowning.

 

Wait... are they still melded?

 

“We are, in fact, rudimentarily bonded.”

 

Jim frowned, clearing his throat. Wait, he hadn’t said that out loud. Spock gave him a little smile. “No, you have said that in your mind, th’y’la.”

 

Jim flushed red at the word, looking away towards the other side of the bed where Leonard was looking down at him, just as fond as Spock, no longer ranting. Jim looked back to Spock, thinking more words at him.

 

“...on the planet Tresect Maou, you suffered an allergic reaction to a waterborne algae. We took you to the cave where the weather device was stored, as that was also their place of sacred healing, and were able to turn it off and return to the ship thereafter. I initiated a meld with you in an attempt to keep you cognizant, and in your delirious state, you bonded us together.”

 

Jim blanched, completely _horrified_ that he had done that without Spock’s permission. Spock seemed very gentle as he ran his fingers down Jim’s meld points, removing the hand from Jim’s eyes as he went. He seemed fond. Loving. “Jim, you have done me no harm, and the kinship I feel towards you now is a stronger bond than we’ve ever had before. I cannot say I am displeased in any way.”

 

Jim turned away from him, cheeks burning again. Oh god.

 

**When Spock went feral after an allergic reaction.**

 

Jim and Uhura both glared at the Andorian officer as he took his sweet ass time opening up the goddamn holding cell they had Spock in. Normally, the two of them could be fairly polite when in a tense situation, but this wasn’t just a _tense situation_ , they could already see bruises forming all over his knuckles and probably on his covered arms and torso, where he had blindly and violently thrown himself at the bars in an attempt to escape.

 

Say what you will about Uhura and Spock’s falling apart relationship -it wasn’t explosive, it wasn’t angry and it wasn’t bitter, but it wasn’t how a couple acted, and it hadn’t been for at least a month now, and the two of them seemed to be slowly, if stubbornly, accepting it- but she was still his friend, and she couldn’t bear to see the blood on his fingers anymore than Jim could.

 

“Oh for god’s sake, put that thing down!” Scratch that, even Leonard was pissed, as he watched the officer pull out a tazer baton. “You should be more afraid of me than that vulcan, I swear to god with your xenophobic bull-”

 

“Bones.”

 

Leonard turned to glare at Jim before the door to the lockup was opened, and before any of them could speak again, there was a green tinted blur darting out of the cage and right towards Jim and Uhura. Jim was nearly knocked over in Spock’s haste to pull Jim towards his chest, wrapping around him with what sounded like a rusty purr that made both Jim and Leonard pause.

 

“Well I’ll be damned, vulcans really _can_ purr. I always thought that one was just the professor at the Academy bullshitting me.”

 

Leonard waited until he was sure Spock was distracted with nuzzling into Jim’s soft hair with his cheek, and waved the tricorder over the beat up looking man.

 

“Yup, he’s completely feral. If what caused it is what I _think_ caused it though, this should wear off in a week. Maybe. I’ve never seen this situation before, you might be stuck with a vulcan attached to you for the rest of your life, I don’t know.”

 

“Bones!”

 

“Alright alright, I’m pretty sure that with minimal hypos and in the worst case scenario, going to Vulcan to see a mind adept, he’ll be fine.”

 

Jim sighed, turning minimally so he could see Uhura, who looked more interested than angry. Jim raised an eyebrow at her and she shrugged. “I want to say I’m numb to this situation, but I’m actually pretty amused. And glad, because he looks like he’s putting a lot of weight on you, and I  _can_ hold him up, but will I? Nah.” Okay, she might still be a little drunk from the club before Spock got arrested after his allergic reaction to a drink.

 

Jim was wondering when their relationship became so functionally dysfunctional, but he feels Spock prodding at his mind, and turned to Leonard. “Bones, let’s go back to the ship, Handsy is trying to cop a feel of my brain.”

 

Leonard just sighed, leading them out of the run down precinct to the beam up site.

 

***

 

“So he’ll be fine in a week, you say?”

 

Leonard shrugged, still trying to figure out what Spock’s readings _meant_. He’d sent a copy of Spock’s records to both Vulcan and Doctor M'Benga but they’ve only been back an hour, so there wasn’t a reply yet. “Something like that. Good thing you two share a bathroom.”

 

“From the looks of it the two of them are gonna be sharing a _bed_.”

 

Okay, scratch the previous statement, Uhura was _drunk_ . She held up her hand for a high five, and to get her to stop, Christine sighed, high fiving her. Uhura grinned. Jim was starting to realized why the designated driver was always the one pissed off at the end of the night. Spock was sitting on the bed behind Jim, both arms wrapped around Jim’s chest so the man was pulled back between his legs. Jim was scowling a little at all of them, mostly because his own buzz had _for sure_ worn off by now. Spock was thankfully, healed now.

 

“You know, most people don’t get excited about their boyfriends sleeping with other people.”

 

Uhura sagged tiredly against Christine, her next sentence a little muffled by her shoulder. “Well, someone’s gotta do it, and it’s not gonna be me.”

 

Christine’s eyes went wide, and she quickly started grabbing Uhura’s scattered boots and jacket off the biobed next to Spock. “Okay, I’m gonna take this drunk back to my quarters for the night, and you can handle the letch.”

 

She ushered Uhura out the door with a quick look back at them, cheeks pink. There was something there, but Jim was too tired to figure it out.

 

“So, how goes keeping your brain away from his?”

 

Jim sighed, leaning back into Spock’s chest. He was starting to purr again, and it made Jim tired. Really tired. He sort of wanted to return the nuzzling but he knew that would be unprofessional. “We’ve been in a low level meld since we got back on the ship. By the way, he _is_ thinking in words, but they’re all either Vulcan or one word sentences that mean nothing, so…” He trailed off, shrugging.

 

Spock trailed one hand down Jim’s chest to his stomach, petting him in a way that made Jim look at the offending hand funny.

 

“It’s good to see he still has the same personal boundaries as before.”

 

***

 

Jim is pretty sure he’s starting to forget what it’s like to be _Jim_ and not _Jim and Spock_. Spock as a feral vulcan is so unbelievably needy, if he wasn’t in Jim’s head, he was whining at him from Jim’s bedroom while Jim showered, or he was glaring at ensigns as they passed a little too close to Jim in the hallways, or even standing behind the Captain’s chair in the bridge, growling at anyone who got too close to him while they made their way to Vulcan.

 

He was getting a little better as days went by, and the day before they got to Vulcan, Jim found himself rubbing a hand up and down Spock’s arm reassuringly as Spock projected shame through their touch after having growled at another ensign.

 

“Oh come on, she didn’t even look scared, Spock, it’s okay. We all know you’re trying to get better, but things are a little tough right now, it’s okay.”

 

The vulcan looked at him with kicked puppy eyes, and Jim wanted to pinch his cheeks a little. Jim sighed, picking up his tray from the replicator and waiting for Spock to get his own. He walked around the edge of the room, and instead of sitting them at their usual table this time, he lead them out of the room and back to the lift. “Come on, we’ll eat in my quarters tonight.”

 

Spock was sort of having some issues with all the stares. At least, once he was able to really think on his own again, that’s when the embarrassment and shame started coming through. Spock had recently been cognizant enough to tell them he believed his attachment to Jim was because of their pre-existing bond, formed nearly a month ago now. Leonard and Jim were good enough people to let him have the lie for now, Leonard, because he honestly did think of Spock as a friend, and Jim, because calling out Spock would be entirely hypocritical.

 

When they finished dinner in Jim’s room, Spock was giving him that look. The one that meant he was attempting to respect Jim’s personal boundaries. Jim grinned at him though. “Wanna go cuddle on my bed and watch holos?”

 

Spock nodded, almost a little desperately, following Jim into the bedroom. When they were in pajamas and curled up in the bed together, Spock felt safe to touch as he pleased, and pulled Jim into the curve of his stomach, nuzzling into his neck. This was so safe. This was so comfortable. This was home.

 

**(When Uhura finally said the words they’ve been skirting around for a year now.)**

 

All Uhura’s stuff was packed from Spock’s room when Spock got back from a short trip to Vulcan’s surface. The crew had a three day leave while he had spent three days with T’Pau in a temple, rebuilding shields and becoming a creature of logic again.

 

He had felt _terrible_ at how his mind and body had slipped, and he felt shame when looking his clan matriarch in the eye. Not to mention that having the most powerful vulcan in the galaxy as your sort-of grandmother -as Jim liked to call her- made expectations a little high.

 

But as always, he left the temple feeling better. T’Pau had a soft spot for the boy she thought of as her grandson. Actually, both the boys she thought of as her grandchildren, because while Sybok does not conform to the vulcan way in the slightest, T’Pau was -unlike many others on the high council- willing to admit that not only is Sybok’s emotionalism a rational choice for his personality, but his mind adept abilities being higher than even T’Pau herself, made him almost infallible to fall prey to violence.

 

Spock had a lot to look up to with T’Pau, but Jim thinks that his expectations are somewhat short sighted. If Spock could see her love for an emotional full blooded vulcan, and still think she would shun him for the slightest fault in his shields, especially one completely out of his control, then Spock really needed to learn to love himself a little more.

 

He has Issues™, and not even Jim can live up to that one. Jim has issues too, let’s be honest, but Spock’s confusing self hatred ran deep.

 

Jim thinks this visit might have given him the kick in the pants that he needed to finally drop that one. Jim dropped his own self hatred somewhere around eighteen years when his dad had come home a week early from an offworld mission to find Jim possibly dying of alcohol poisoning on the living room floor back in Iowa.

 

It hadn’t been the alcohol poisoning and overnight hospital visit that had given him the kick in the pants he needed, it was mainly the way he’d woken up the next morning to find George sitting on the edge of the biobed. George was a strong man, big and strong, and a commanding air about him that no one could deny.

 

He had been crying, one shaking hand running through Jim’s messy hair while he blinked at a wall, almost numb. That had made Jim drop the self hatred. Because his parents weren’t someone he was willing to hurt as well.

 

Spock needed to let go of a lot of that pain, that loathing. He loves his family, yet hated his own genes.

 

Spock didn’t hate himself when he let himself into his own quarters for the first time in nine point eight five days and found Uhura sitting on the couch, no bags, still in uniform, primly setting aside a PADD when she saw him come through the door. Spock didn’t need to be able to read her mind to know what was coming.

 

“Spock, we can’t keep pretending we’re in love. It’s not worth it every time we look at someone that’s not each other, and let the guilt pile on.”

 

Spock came further into the room, and sat on the other side of the couch from her. “My father once told me, that marrying my mother was the logical choice. For a long time, you were the logical choice.”

 

She snorted, light, amused. Fond. It was nice. She didn’t hate him, and he didn’t hate her. “When did I stop being the logical choice?”

 

“...when I realized that though my mother was logical, it did not mean he never loved her. I think of you as a friend. Someone I could spend my life with… in a platonic manner.”

 

Uhura’s eyes were utterly soft when she turned to look at him. “I think that if we weren’t both looking at other people, that arrangement might have actually fulfilled us.”

 

Spock’s face showed surprise, and he raised both eyebrows at her. “You have been looking elsewhere?”

 

Uhura got up from the couch with a little smirk, even more amused now. She tapped her nose and headed for the door. “Now that, Commander, would be telling.”

 

***

 

Spock changed into his pajamas before he went into his and Jim’s shared bathroom, crossing and opening up the door to Jim’s bedroom. Jim looked up from his place, sprawled out on his bed while he went through reports on a PADD.

 

“Something wrong, Spock?”

 

Spock opened and closed his mouth once, and walked into the room, closing the door behind him before sitting on the edge of the bed. Before they -both of them, Jim had spent three days with Spock’s parents while he took the chance to attend a few meetings at the Vulcan High Council,- got down to Vulcan, Spock had slept in this bed with Jim for nearly a week.

 

Jim didn’t seem to mind his presence here now, reaching out with one hand and tugging Spock further into the bed by his forearm. Spock went easily, curling up a foot away from Jim on the bed, felliniesque body taking up minimal space for his size. Jim could do that too, but he prefered to starfish, taking up as much space as possible.

 

Taking up space always reminded him that he was safe here, helped him sleep calmly through the night.

 

Spock reached out, laying across from Jim, and gently ran his fingers over Jim’s meld points. He felt a pushing touch against his own mind while Jim reached out towards him, with his face, his closest arm, and his mind, all of them begging to mesh with Spock in the way that had comforted Spock for nearly a week. “May I show you a memory of my time at the temple?”

 

Jim nodded, eyes closed, face looking utterly content, but mind bright and alert against his. Spock fit his fingers over the meld points and let their thoughts flow together. He let the memory come up.

 

_T’Pau was strong. She was over a head shorter than Spock, and yet, her presence might as well have made him feel like a child. Small again, running around her feet after an older brother who acted with irrational emotion, and yet, calm. Sybok was a rare vulcan, and Spock would follow him anywhere as a child. Even when they both got in trouble._

 

_T’Pau pulled out of his mind again, and Spock could see what, on a human, would be a shining grin. A feeling of pure joy went through him to please her. “Do you remember your family bonds?”_

 

_Spock smiled, his own less restrained, more human. “Yes. I remember my bonds, and I remember what it is to follow the vulcan way.”_

 

_T’Pau’s smile faltered, and Spock felt confusion. She stroked one finger down Spock’s meld points, a sign of affection that was nearly lost in their society today._

 

_Melding itself, was considered emotional and messy. It brought many of their species disgust, not because it wasn’t natural, but because allowing themselves to feel emotion, even just the once, could open the floodgates to violence and destruction that vulcans were once known for._

 

_Their family was an oddity. Sybok was an emotional being who is possibly the strongest mind adept on their planet, Spock was a natural melder who could form bonds without the help of an adept, and even Sarek had placed the initial foundations of his own bond to Amanda before they had a formal bonding ceremony. Their family was strong._

 

_This unfortunately, meant they were also more emotional. Sybok has given up the idea of rejecting his emotions entirely, but Sarek and T’Pau were paradigms of vulcan logic and sound. Spock could not meet the standards of a vulcan without the ability of mind melding._

 

_“You try to be what you are not, Spock. You are imperfect. You have embraced your human side, but you can never rid yourself of vulcan. You don’t need to hold standards. You are better.”_

 

_Spock stepped back once, honestly shocked. “I am not better-”_

 

_“You are. Your brother is also different, and yet he is stronger than I. You are different, and you are more accepting, and also stronger, than other vulcans. You have nothing to apologize for, simply to not hold up to their standards. Hold yourself to something that fits you, or you’ll always limit your abilities.”_

 

_Spock thinks, that if he had been fully vulcan, the corners of his eyes wouldn’t be stinging like they wanted to leak. He held that back though._

 

_When he left the temple, he didn’t hate what he was._

 

When Spock and Jim came back to themselves, Jim was flashing him a brilliant smile, almost sappily happy, and leaned in to pull Spock against him in a hug. “You are very much better than those xenophobic assholes, Spock, you are a good person. You are you, and there’s nothing better than that.”

 

Spock looked Jim in the eyes for long enough that Jim’s eyes started blowing wider, and then trailed down to Jim’s lips. When Jim realized where they had gone, his cheeks started flushing red. “I can imagine a better person to be, and yet, I am glad I am not him.”

 

He didn’t kiss Jim. Not with his fingers, and not with his mouth, and yet, they both felt wrecked like they had been locked together without air for hours. Jim’s eyes blinked slowly, still blown wide, and happy he was laying down, because he felt dizzy. “Oh. I’m glad too.”

 

**The Wrath of Khan was no more than a stain on Jim’s memory by the end of it, like several other things.**

 

Khan was smart. He was patient, and careful in planning, and he had taken out half the enterprise before they could blink. Jim had gotten the warp core stabilized before it could kill them, but not without a price.

 

He didn’t actually remember much about dying. That’s the thing with radiation poisoning, is that if you somehow manage to survive the level that Jim did -up till that moment of breathing again, a feat that had never been managed- you don’t remember much.

 

Radiation liquefies you from the inside out. Before Jim was breathing again, his brain was in the process of turning into goo.

 

He’s lucky he remembers his own name, much less what it was like to die. He remembers two things though.

 

How greatful that the high levels would kill him quick. He wouldn’t be sitting in medical waiting for himself to barf up half his heart, and he didn’t have to let his crew see him like that.

 

And the fact that someone _did_ see him like that. He remembers seeing Spock cry. He’d never seen it before, and it hurt more than dying did.

 

In the end, this was going to be another stain on his mind. If he remembered it. That memory seemed to be uniquely damaged. Also, when was his brother’s birthday? Okay, so maybe there are a few gaps.

 

“The damage is quickly reversing itself, by the end of the week when you’re fully released, you should be back to normal.”

 

Jim gave Leonard a horrified look. “A _week_?”

 

Leonard put down the PADD he’d been reading Jim’s latest scans off of, and gave him a _hurt_ looking glare. It’s only been a day since Jim was dead on the Enterprise, and he winced. Leonard was always a little touchy when Jim got hurt. “Jim, you had _radiation poisoning_ , and the average recovery time for that is two weeks in medical you’re _lucky_ you’re not dead, and you’re _lucky_ I’m not forcing you to stay here longer.”

 

Jim cringed, feeling terrible. “Sorry.”

 

He was in a medichair in a private room at Starfleet Headquarters. His right bicep was locked in what looked like one of those old fashioned blood test monitors they used to keep in grocery store monitors, but Jim had learned was apparently, the latest technology in radiation poisoning, and would keep him monitored and also be able to give him injections at will.

 

Apparently, radiation poisoning was a touch and go issue, and needed consistent monitoring and access to medication that you might not be able to get without it being _right there_.

 

Jim fiddled with the controls on the left armrest of the chair, making it sit up a little more so he wasn’t facing the ceiling, but the front of the sterile room. His legs were in a bent position, and he felt more like he was in a barber’s chair than a medical chair. He could feel his cheeks heating up as he realized Leonard was watching him carefully.

 

He was lucky, honestly, the medichairs afforded him more movement and stability than biobeds did, and he’d be able to leave the chair for short periods of time, so the idea of needing a bedpan was thankfully, a non-issue.

 

Leonard let out a sigh, getting up from the small desk in the room for medical supervision, and crouched down so he was at a height with Jim. Jim thought he was going to make Jim meet his eyes or something, but he felt a hand on the back of his head, and was instead, pulling up into Leonard’s neck.

 

“You need to stop getting hurt, okay? I know that makes my position compromised, but I couldn’t handle it if I lost you for good. Don’t leave me to be the one to pick up Spock when that _wrecks_ him. Because it would.”

 

Jim let out a slightly pained whimper, not from the hand on his head, or his head in Leonard’s neck, but because that thought made his stomach hurt, it made his chest hurt, it made his mind hurt. Or, maybe it was something else?

 

“Bones? I’m gonna puke.”

 

Leonard pulled back, and was back in front of him with a bucket in seconds. Jim wiped his mouth on the wet wipe Leonard gave him, and cringed. “Was that blood?”

 

“Well, your insides _did_ liquify, so yes. There will be a bit of that for another day.” Jim groaned, leaning back against the chair again. It wasn’t as soft as a bed, but it was comfortable, and put his body in a naturally relaxed position.

 

Leonard pressed a button on the arm of the chair, and it raised his bent legs a bit. Jim raised an eyebrow. “The human body has a natural instinct to curl up when in pain, that will make you feel safer and help you sleep.”

 

Jim grumbled a little. “I don’t want to sleep.”

 

Leonard rolled his eyes, pressing another button and there was a visor lowering over his head, far enough away that he couldn’t feel his own breath, and with a gap at the bottom for fresh air. It blocked out most of the room’s light though. He sighed a little, relaxed, and knowing he’d end up asleep anyways.

 

***

 

Jim was going through reports -minimal reports that Leonard had _allowed_ him to go through- when Spock finally got the chance to get out of meetings to see him. Jim’s face turned to a brilliant grin and he put the PADD down in his lap. Spock pulled up a chair to the side of the medichair, so it was facing Jim, as close as he could comfortably get on the same level.

 

“I am… relieved, Jim.”

 

Jim gave him a sappy grin, reaching over to grab one of Spock’s hands off his lap, and pulling it into his own. “So am I.”

 

Spock turned his hand in Jim’s, rubbing the pads of his fingers into Jim’s, making both of them shiver. Neither of them could pretend they didn’t know what that meant. Neither of them were willing to talk about it though. Not yet.

 

There wasn’t much to say between them, so they just stared for a long time, Spock’s dark brown eyes into Jim’s golden hazel. There was a sort of electric charge between the two of them, and like so many times before, Spock gently guided his fingers of his uncaptured hand to Jim’s meld points, feeling that unspoken gift of consent between them. Spock was going to slip into him in the most intimate touch Jim has ever had to date, more intimate than any one night stand, more intimate than any of the men and women he’s fallen in love with over the years. And he’s fallen in love with a lot, because he was a romantic at heart, and couldn’t keep himself away from the call of a loving mind. Spock was a welcome presence Jim’s mind, warm and beautiful strands of glittering blue twining with Jim’s gold, it made him feel warm and full and _whole_.

 

Just like now-

 

The door to the room opened up, and they broke the shallow meld before it could go deeper, a blur coming into the room right after.

 

Jim blinked in shock when a hand pulled his head to the side, brushing Spock’s hand off as it went, and suddenly there was a kiss pressed to his temple, and another, then to his cheek, and then in his hair. Wait, Jim recognizes this.

 

“Dad, please stop that.”

 

George Kirk let out an angry little huff, cradling his youngest son’s head in both hands while he peppered him with kisses. “Sweetheart, you were _dead_ , Jimmy, you were _dead_ , you’re not allowed to do that!”

 

“George, he’s not a baby anymore, he’s a captain in Starfleet, he knows that comes with risks.” Winona followed in after George at a more sedated pace. Winona had always been the more contained parent of the two of them.

 

As is, George glared at her and let out another angry little huff of air. “Excuse you, he is a baby, he’s my baby, and I will murder anyone who tries to hurt him. Ugh, if Admiral Marcus wasn’t already dead-”

 

“Dad, please-”

 

“He’s lucky he’s dead I wouldn’t have made it quick-”

 

“Dad, you’re embarrassing him.” Jim tried to pull his head away from George at the third new voice, and lit up a little when he saw Sam trailing in after their mother. He looked way too amused for Jim’s liking, but this was the first time Jim has seen Sam in person in years since he got married and they moved off world.

 

Sam paused once he was in the door, following his mother’s line of vision down to Jim’s lap where the human still had both his hands wrapped around Spock’s unmoving hand. Spock didn’t try to pull back, even at their gaze, seeming almost stubbornly set on keeping the two of them locked together.

 

George seemed entirely oblivious to it all, still lamenting on how his _little boy_ was always running off and getting hurt, why couldn’t he choose a less dangerous career like his brother?

 

As far as meeting his parents can go, Jim is counting this one as a win.

 

It was much less amusing when the most oblivious dad in all of history finally figured it out the day after Jim was finally released from intensive care and Jim was forced to hold him back from leaving the room to go do something stupid, like threaten Spock not to hurt his son.

 

Winona and Sam -and Sam’s wife,- were all just watching them, looking like they could use some popcorn. George Kirk is a rational man, and he even _liked_ Spock, but he was way too on edge right now.

 

He also might still be in complete denial about Jim being an adult. Jim doesn’t know how to fix that one. For all that George had been a little bit upset with Jim drinking and starting bar fights back in Iowa, at least when Jim was still living at home he could pretend Jim wasn’t growing up.

 

**When they got married. Finally.**

 

Vulcan was hot. Really hot.

 

“It’s too bad the ceremony isn’t outside, it looks really nice out, don’t you think it looks nice out, Jimmy?”

 

Jim frowned. He was sitting in a chair behind an ornate mirror, adjusting the fit of the ivory tux. “Mom, it’s a hundred and thirteen degrees fahrenheit out.”

 

Winona frowned back at him. She looked much more at home in formal wear than Jim would ever be. But that’s probably because dresses would always be more comfortable. He was almost jealous of the fact that Spock was going to be in traditional vulcan robes. He didn’t have to wear anything under those, lucky.

 

“I know that, baby, but it looks really nice out.” She let out a sad little sigh, and for once, it was her being the weepy one, not George, who was fussing over the jewelry box that had the wedding necklace in it. Necklaces weren’t traditional wedding jewelry, but Spock had refused when Jim asked him if he’d wear a ring. “Oh, sweetie, I’ve been to _two_ of Sam’s weddings, and now my little boy is all grown up and getting married. I feel _old_.”

 

Jim snorted. “Sam didn’t _have_ to have to have a second wedding, they could have just added Aurelan to his and David’s standing wedding license.” His brother had always been the show off out of them. What with his _mental stability_ and _stable jobs_. Before Jim had gotten into Starfleet, Sam made him look downright terrible next to him. He sighed. “I’m not a child. I haven’t been for a long time, Mom.”

 

Winona and George both answered at the same time, “Then start acting like it!”

 

Jim rolled his eyes, but was saved from replying when someone knocked on the door to the groom’s ready room and let themselves in. It was Leonard, Jim’s best man.

 

“Well, I see you’re oddly calm compared to the vulcans.”

 

Jim raised an eyebrow. “Spock is _nervous_?”

 

Leonard waved his hands. “Uh, kinda? Spock seems pretty indifferent, but he’s got that _look_ on his face, you know the one, and his mom is crying, and his dad and brother are arguing about something? I think they think they fucked up part of the ceremony but aren’t sure what part? I don’t know anymore, I left when Sybok started hitting on me… again.”

 

Jim grinned at his best friend while Winona and George exchanges amused looks. “Hey, hey Bones, if you marry Sybok, we can be _brothers_.”

 

Leonard shuddered, though he wasn’t sure at what part. He’d left sometime around the point where Sybok started leering at him and saying he heard it was traditional for the best man and maid of honor to fuck after the ceremony. Which had caused Amanda to pelt him with a throw pillow. Apparently, Amanda wasn’t worried that anything about the ceremony was off, she being Jewish herself as well.

 

Leonard shook his head, holding his hand out for George to hand him the jewelry case, opening it up once to check that everything was set. It was a thin gold chain with a single drop shaped gen set into the middle, an amber stone and cut smoothe.

 

He nodded in satisfaction and tucked the flat box into the pocket inside his tux.

 

“Alright, they’re ready for the two of you to sign the marriage contracts. Uh… why do you have three contracts?”

 

Jim avoiding looking back to where he knew his parents had to be giving him confused looks. Jim was a good Jewish boy, he knew that multiple contracts just weren’t the norm. He wasn’t normal though.

 

“We couldn’t decide what language to put it in. One is Standard, the language we first met each other in, one is Vulcan, the language he learned as a baby, and one is Yiddish, which is one I grew up with. It’s not traditional, but, well, the torah wasn’t written in a space age either, so…”

 

Leonard put his hand up to his chest, pressing firmly with a glare. “You are way too annoying to do something that romantic, stop exceeding my expectations.”

 

Jim just grinned at him as they walked out the room without pause.

 

**(Yichud)**

 

Jim and Spock went into the lavish room in the House of Sarek after the wedding ceremony. It had been beautiful. The vulcans didn’t seem to understand the ritual of breaking a glass, but they had held back, knowing it was tradition in their culture. There was so much about human culture that vulcans didn’t understand.

 

Jim reached up with a sappy little grin to touch the place where he wore the necklace that Spock had picked out for him as well. It was similar to Spock’s but the stone was a dark brown, almost black. It matched Spock’s eyes, and Jim couldn’t imagine anything more beautiful.

 

He looked around the room, a sappy grin on his face when he saw his husband, his _bondmate_ , because they had T’Pau bind them in the traditional vulcan matter right after the ceremony. They were together in life, and they were together in their minds, and Jim felt elated and dizzy and like he was floating and he wanted to kiss Spock over and over all over his face.

 

Spock was already sitting on a settee next to a table that had been laid out with horderves and even two cocktail glasses, one with a fruity citrus drink that Jim was thankfully, not allergic to, and another with a non-alcoholic, chocolate based beverage. Jim moved to sit next to the Vulcan, snuggling up into his side as he handed him the chocolate drink and took the other for his own.

 

They were so excited -well, actually, it was Jim’s excitement mostly, because Spock knew how to control himself, but Jim did not, and it was creating a dizzying feedback loop through both of them- they couldn’t speak for a long time.

 

Finally, Jim put his empty drink to the side, eating a tiny sandwich before snuggling back under Spock’s left arm. “I’m happy.”

 

“I am aware, Ashayam.”

 

Jim reached up a hand to cover his face before sliding it back down to touch the pendant at his collarbone for what felt like the thousandth time.

 

“I’m _really_ happy.”

 

Spock smiled, gentle, and put his own glass aside, before pulling Jim in, both hands cradling his face, so gentle it made Jim sigh. “We have fifteen more minutes before we are expected to return to our guests. Jim, would you permit me to initiate a more intimate bond?”

 

Jim beamed at him, tears welling up in his eyes for a moment as he nodded, too full of emotion to really say much. He was so so lucky. Not many vulcans were born with the ability to initiate a meld, and Spock was the best there was at it. He was so lucky to share his mind with him, the pleasure of it was almost too much.

 

“Always. You _always_ have that permission, Spock.”

 

He covered Spock’s hands on his face with his own, and the two of them started slipping down, down into that peaceful place that both of them craved, that both of them wanted so badly, that made them sore and fly, further than the Enterprise could ever take them.

 

This was home.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, there will MOST LIKELY be sequels. Future pairings so none of you yell at me when I fling them at you without any apologies: Sybok/Bones, Uhura/Gaila, Christine/T'Pring I will make everyone gay just watch me, I gave Sam BOTH a husband and wife I will do it. I'll probably even put Scotty/Keenser in there.
> 
> Also, when T'Pau says that Spock and Sybok are better than other emotions, she actually is calling them more evolved. Specifically Sybok tho, because he has the ability to FULLY embrace emotions without becoming violent. Violence is the REASON that vulcans purge all emotions in the first place, so the fact that Sybok can embrace them, means he's stronger. Spock can SORT OF embrace emotions, but not on the same level. T'Pau honestly thinks their differences should be celebrated as advanced.
> 
> Also, it's not explicitly stated in this but it's ambiguous for you to code Spock and Jim as asexual in this.
> 
> gatersgonewild.tumblr.com


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